


The Best of All Possible Worlds

by 7iris



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-06 07:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3126770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7iris/pseuds/7iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justice Lord John Stewart gets stuck in the Justice League's dimension, and his presence makes John Stewart question everything he's known about his relationship with Flash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best of All Possible Worlds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LePeru (Nizah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nizah/gifts).



> As part of the 2014 Holly Poly Challenge. Thanks to N.B for the beta!

John watched the Justice Lords trudge sullenly towards the portal. They passed through one by one, disappearing into their own dimension. His own alternate self was last, pausing just before the threshold to look back at them.

To look back at Flash, he realized. An expression almost like longing slid across other-him's face, just for a second, and then he squared his shoulders and turned away.

Before he could take another step, the portal rippled, then disappeared.

"What the--" 

The tiny spy cam observing them dropped out of the sky. Batman tapped the communicator in his ear, trying to reach his counterpart. "Batman, do you copy?"

There was a long, awkward pause while they stood around waiting for something to happen. 

"I've lost the connection to the other dimension," Batman said finally.

"Can you get it back?" Superman asked.

"I don't know."

*

The portal didn't reappear. 

They took his other self -- and shit, he was going to have work on the name thing now, apparently -- back to the Tower, for lack of anything better to do. The power disruptor had rendered him as harmless as any human, and he did not seem inclined to escape. 

"Do you think his people closed it on purpose?" Flash asked. "Just -- kicked him out?"

John could see his-- could see Stewart flinch out of the corner of his eye and he winced himself at the Flash's tactlessness. "I'm sure it was an accident," he said firmly. "I'm sure their Batman will open it as soon as he can."

*

The portal didn't reopen.

*

After a week, Batman agreed to try to build a machine of their own. "My counterpart and I discussed the theory behind it briefly," he said. "I can attempt to recreate it, but it will take some time. And it will have a lower priority that my other duties."

"I understand," Stewart said. "Thank you for trying."

"So, are we just going to keep him locked up in the Tower?" Flash asked.

John exchanged a look with Wonder Woman.

"I give you my word I will not try to escape or, or sabotage this station in any way," Stewart said. "I regret what we attempted to do. We only wanted to help, but it was not our place interfere."

For some reason, everyone looked at John, like he was supposed to evaluate the truth of that statement. "He's the mind-reader," he said, jerking a thumb at J'onn.

Everyone's attention shifted.

"Hmmmm," J'onn said.

Stewart lifted his chin and met J'onn's eyes.

After a moment, J'onn nodded. "His intentions are pure."

John bit back a grimace. His intentions were always pure. That was never the problem.

*

Regardless, they gave Stewart access to the public parts of the Tower: the library, the lounge, the kitchen, and the gym. Stewart asked for and was given civilian clothing. He still wore his ring though, even though it had no power. 

He didn't go out of his way to socialize with them, but he was never unfriendly. 

He talked to Flash a lot, but that was probably because Flash talked to _everyone_ a lot.

*

"Is it weird?" Flash asked. "Seeing yourself everywhere?"

"He's not me," John said, a little too sharp. 

"I know, I know, sorry," Flash said.

"I've gotten used to it," John said. It was still a shock sometimes, if he wasn't expecting it and Stewart looked at him just so, but mostly now he only saw how Stewart was different.

Flash was quiet for a beat. "He's harder than you."

John looked over, permitted himself one raised eyebrow.

Flash cackled with laughter. "That's what she said." He sobered immediately. "But I mean -- you're all gruff and macho and a hard-ass on the outside, but on the inside you're a marshmallow. But him, he's more laid-back and, I dunno, soft on the outside -- I mean, he never gets sick of me talking -- but inside..."

He trailed off.

"Not a marshmallow?" John offered.

"Nah, man, he definitely doesn't have your sweet soft core of inner fluff." Flash grinned at him, leaned over to press a quick, smacking kiss to the side of John's face and zipped out of the room before John could react. 

*

Sometimes, after a long mission, John stayed at the Tower instead of going back to Earth.

John stumbled down to the kitchen in the morning, yawning. Something smelled amazing.

He stopped in the doorway and stared.

Stewart was making breakfast for Flash.

Flash was halfway through a pile of eggs and bacon and toast and making obscene pleased noises about it. There was a gallon of orange juice and a pot of coffee on the table, and another pot brewing.

Stewart was scrambling more eggs in the largest pan they had. He added corn and beans and two huge handfuls of cheddar cheese. The microwave beeped and he pulled out what looked like at least half a pound of bacon just as Flash was scraping his plate clean. 

Stewart pushed the fresh bacon onto his plate, grabbed the frying pan off the stove, and dumped the contents of that on as well. He turned back to the stove, poured in another bowl of cracked eggs, and pulled a tray of toast out from under the broiler. 

Everything was smooth, practiced, like he had a system. 

Flash looked up from squirting Sriracha all over his eggs and saw John. "Look! Breakfast!"

Stewart turned around at that. He saw John, and for a second he looked embarrassed, or ashamed. He put the toast on the table and smiled at John. It only looked a little forced around the edges.

"There's enough for you, too, if you want," he said.

"Sure," John said slowly. "Thanks."

He sat down and took a piece of bacon. 

"Hey, I helped," Flash said through a mouthful of toast. "I cracked the eggs and shredded the cheese and everything."

"Thanks to you, too, then," John said.

The eggs were really good.

*

Afterwards, Stewart caught up with him in the gym.

"Look," Stewart said. "I just wanted to say, sorry about breakfast."

"Why? It's not like you poisoned us, or--" John stopped, frowned. "Wait, did you poison us?"

" _No_. I mean, I just wanted you to know I wasn't trying to be a homewrecker or anything."

"A home-- what?"

"I know Wally is yours, I wouldn't try to get in the way of that."

John didn't know what his face was doing, but it must have been weird, because Stewart's expression slowly changed from earnest to slightly confused.

"Wait," Stewart said. "Are you guys not together?"

John stared. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a kind of wheezing noise. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Um. No."

"Oh," Stewart said. "Did you break up, or--"

"We've never been together. Dated. Whatever."

"Oh," Stewart said again, and he looked genuinely baffled.

"Were you guys, you and your Flash..." John trailed off.

"Yes," Stewart said quietly.

"Oh," John said. And oh, it's hard enough to lose a friend, a fellow soldier, but to lose a lover, too... "Shit, man, I'm sorry."

Stewart glanced away and nodded.

*

Growing up, John had always known that there were things that he couldn't have, not when he just wanted to make it through high school, not when the Marines were his escape plan. So he got good at not thinking about those things, about walling off those corners of himself.

And, really, it wasn't like it was _that_ much of a sacrifice. He loved women, he could be happy with women. Men, too, would just be -- greedy.

But that night, lying awake in his bed, he couldn't stop thinking about Stewart and his Flash. How things must have gone differently long before that Flash's death if Stewart hadn't been afraid to go after what he wanted, to have that. 

John had never let himself think something like that was possible, and yet. And yet, somehow, it was.

(He dreamed about them together, and when he woke up, hard and aching, he wasn't sure if it had been Stewart or him coaxing that breathless, pleading babble from Flash's lips.)

*

When the creatures from beyond came through to attack Atlantis, some took a detour to destroy a deep-sea oil rig. 

"It's gonna be another Deepwater Horizon," John said, looking up at the viewscreen as the tentacles wrapped around the platform. "Flash!"

There was a whoosh. 

"I'm ready, I'm ready, let's go!" Flash said. "Is Batman meeting us there?"

"He's busy with the ones trying to sink a couple of battleships in the Gulf of Taiwan," John said.

Flash was staring at the viewscreen. "...Oh. Wow. That's, that's a really big tentacle, isn't it?"

The screen split, satellite imagery rapidly zooming in on another sector.

"There is another attack at the surface," J'onn said.

"Where?"

"Three Mile Island."

"Uh," Flash said. "Isn't that--"

John swore viciously under his breath.

"I can help," Stewart said.

John turned. He hadn't heard him come in.

"If you recharge my ring, I'll help you stop them."

John hesitated.

"Please," Stewart said. "I can't sit by again and watch, when I could make a difference."

John shot a quick glance at J'onn. J'onn gave him a tiny nod.

"Fine. But you're giving the ring back after we're done."

Stewart nodded. "Deal."

John didn't like to admit it, but he wasn't sure they could have prevented both the spill and the nuclear reactor meltdown without Stewart. And he was as good as his word, handing over the recharged ring when the mission was over.

He watched it disappear into John's pocket with a wistful expression, but he didn't argue.

"Ugh," Flash said. "I am never eating sushi again."

Stewart shook himself and gave Flash a grin. "How about lasagna? I think there's one in the freezer."

"Yes!" Flash said, bouncing to his feet and zipping out of the room.

Stewart followed him out, yelling about pre-heating the oven. 

John locked Stewart's ring away safely. And then went to get his share of the lasagna.

*

John forgot, sometimes, that they were still waiting for the portal to reopen, that all this was temporary.

*

Flash appeared next to John in his usual rush of wind and particulate matter. 

"Did you know other-you and other-me were dating in that dimension?" Flash hissed.

John looked away from the viewscreen. "Yes."

Flash blinked. He looked momentarily taken aback. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"No," John said, starting to get angry on Stewart's behalf. "Why would it bother me? Why does it bother _you_? Just because you're straight in this universe doesn't mean that other versions--"

"I'm not straight!" Flash yelped. "You're straight!"

"I'm not straight," John said quietly. His heartbeat jumped at the words, at the way they sounded said out loud, then settled.

Flash opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Under his mask, he was slowly turning pink. "I, you-- I gotta go," he said, and then he was gone.

John shook his head slowly and turned back to the viewscreen.

*

John lied. It did bother him, because now he couldn't stop looking at Flash and thinking, _maybe, yes_ instead of _that's impossible_.

*

"Parasitic mind-control fungus?" Flash said, and he sounded more resigned than disbelieving.

"It appears so," Wonder Woman said.

"Huh. Well. You see something new every day in this line of work, I guess."

Stewart was rougher with the mind-control victims than John was happy with, as they worked their way towards the central mass of the fungus. John bit his tongue, at least until Flash slipped, suddenly tangled in the sticky tendrils of the fungus.

A zombified soccer mom lurched towards him, clutching a kitchen knife, and Stewart swooped in from above, arm drawn back, his fist engulfed in a shining green blade.

John abandoned his own flight path and intercepted him at the last moment, slamming his shoulder into Stewart's midsection like a linebacker throwing a tackle. 

The woman stumbled as they swept by. John threw Stewart against a wall.

"Goddamnit, I told you when we landed, non-lethal force only on the civilians," John snarled.

"Um! Guys?" Flash yelled.

Stewart curled his lip back, and John cut him off before he could argue.

"Go help Hawkgirl destroy the main stem if you can't handle that order."

John turned away before he could see if Stewart obeyed him.

Flash was ducking from side to side as well as he could, tangled up in the spongy mass, while the woman slowly, clumsily stabbed at him. John threw a quick shield around Flash.

The woman stabbed at it a few times, then turned a baffled, reproachful glance on John as he walked up. He sprayed her in the face with knockout gas and she blinked before falling over.

John cut Flash loose. He could swear he saw the fungus tendrils actively wiggling towards them.

"What is it with you and sticky substances?" John asked, pulling him to his feet.

Flash cracked a huge, sleazy grin, but it disappeared in an instant. He grabbed the canister of sleeping gas off John's belt and whipped it over John's shoulder.

John turned to see it hit another mind-control victim square in the forehead. The man sat down hard, stunned.

"That was still half-full!" John bitched as he launched them both into the air.

*

"No more mushroom pizza?" John asked as Flash came out of the showers, scrubbed red, a towel wrapped around his hips.

John dragged his eyes away, concentrated on pulling on his clean clothes.

Flash's stomach rumbled audibly. "I might be willing to make an exception," he said. 

Stewart walked into the locker room. His shoulders were straight, tense, like he was at attention. He caught John's eye.

"Put your pants on before you raid the fridge," John said, standing up.

"That was one time!" Flash yelled after him.

John walked past Stewart, giving him a quick, follow-me jerk of the head. 

When they were alone in the hallway, Stewart held out his ring. 

John took it, and Stewart said, like he was picking up their conversation in the field, "Even if it endangers a teammate? Hawkgirl, or Flash?"

John sighed. "Yes. They chose that risk when they joined this team. The civilians did not. We are their protectors, their safety is our highest priority."

Stewart's mouth flattened out. "Don't you remember being afraid, as a kid? Afraid of the next madman with a weapon of mass destruction, of your neighborhood, your school being the next battleground?"

"I remember being afraid of the police," John said, "who enforced the law arbitrarily, and were never held accountable for anything they did."

Stewart flinched like John had slapped him.

"People _should_ be afraid of madmen with bombs. They should never be afraid of us."

*

"Is that the right date?" Stewart asked, looking at one of the Tower's monitors.

John cracked his neck. "Yeah," he said. You lost time on some of these missions, sometimes because of temporal slippage or mind-control, but sometimes just because too much happened all at once.

But when he glanced over at Stewart, his expression was off, a twist of pain and shock and something John couldn't identify. It smoothed out as soon as Stewart saw him watching.

"What?" John asked.

Stewart forced a rueful smile. "I don't suppose there's beer on this station?"

"No, sorry," John said.

Flash zipped into the room. "Guys, guys, taco night! Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman are in, what about you?"

"No, thanks," Stewart said.

"I'm good," John said.

"Your loss!" Flash sped off, trailed by a stream of commentary on Elon Musk and space food delivery.

Stewart's eyes lingered where he had been standing, that soft, hurt expression sliding across his face again.

John sighed. If there was one thing he understood, it was bad anniversaries. "C'mon," he said. "I'll buy you a drink."

He took Stewart to his apartment. It seemed easier than explaining to the local bar what he was doing with a brand new twin. He was pretty sure he didn't have the energy to take Stewart back to the Tower that night, anyway.

He brought out a six, well, five-pack of beer and turned on the basketball game. 

Stewart let out a soft huff, almost a laugh. "You still have the Flames?"

"Yeah," John said. "You don't?"

"Nah, they moved to St. Louis like five years ago."

John clucked his tongue in disapproval. He nursed one beer while Stewart worked his way steadily through the rest in silence.

One of Flash's stupid commercials came on, and Stewart sucked in a rough, shocked breath. 

John swore and fumbled with remote until the tv turned off. Stewart's uneven breath was loud in the sudden silence.

"Today is, what? When he died? Or--" John stopped as it occurred to him that it could be an _anniversary_ anniversary.

But Stewart was nodding.

"Shit," John said. He got up and went to grab his bottle of scotch.

He poured them each a healthy shot. "You wanna talk about it?"

A ghost of a smile flickered across Stewart's face. "What do you think?"

John inclined his head. He clicked his glass against Stewart's. The words he'd said so many times, _to absent friends_ , got stuck in his throat.

They went back to drinking in silence, John slowly and Stewart with purpose.

Stewart got looser as the level in the bottle dropped, the rigid tension in his shoulders easing, his whole body melting into the sofa.

Out of nowhere, Stewart said, "I can't believe you and him never…"

John twitched. He made an noncommittal sound.

Stewart rolled his head against the couch cushion so he could look at John. He was frowning, that kind of sweetly earnest stage of drunk.

"He's so great," Stewart said. "I know he's not my Wally, they're not the same, but I don't know how you could not, not--"

John shrugged carefully, avoiding Stewart's eyes. His heart was beating a little too fast and his face felt weirdly hot. 

"Life is too short to not go after what you want, John. What if something happened to him?"

"Shut up," John said, low and vicious, startling himself.

Stewart blinked."Sorry," he said.

John scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, it's-- Look, it's late, we should both go to bed."

Stewart nodded. John got up and went to get a blanket and an extra pillow. 

"You're getting the couch," he said, dropping the pile of bedding into Stewart's lap.

"Thanks," Stewart said, smoothing his hand gently over the pillow.

"Yeah, well, see how your back feels in the morning before you say that."

Stewart looked up at John. "No, I-- everything. Thank you."

"Yeah, well, you're welcome," John said gruffly.

In the middle of the night, John half-woke when the toilet flushes. The mattress dipped behind him, and someone warm and solid curled up against his back, slung an arm around his waist. Which was -- wrong?

John made a vague, confused noise.

"Shhh," a deep voice mumbled, and everything about it felt good and comfortable, so John just stopped worrying and went back to sleep.

He woke up again when Stewart groaned.

John sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "Um. Man."

Stewart blinked at him, then his eyes widened. "Oh, shit, sorry. I got up to piss and I guess I forgot where I was."

John snorted, fighting a weird urge to blush. "The people I sleep with usually make me breakfast in the morning, so..."

Stewart closed his eyes. "How about you buy breakfast, and I'll make it up to you when I'm less hungover?"

John heaved a huge, put-upon sigh. "I guess that will work."

*

John whipped a beam of energy through the drone that dove towards him, and it broke apart, spinning off into the cavernous factory. Another one darted in, firing bolts of yellow energy. John dodged and slashed. For every one he destroyed two more seemed to be right behind.

"Surrender your rings!" Sinestro shouted from the dark.

"I'll surrender something all right," Stewart muttered, panting for breath.

"Surrender them or I'll rip him limb from limb."

John's attention snapped away from the drones.

Sinestro floated out of the shadows, limned in yellow light. In front him, floating in the same yellow light was Flash. His body was completely limp.

John ran all the angles in his head, brain running as fast as Flash's mouth.

"Are you fast enough, Green Lantern?" Sinestro asked, like he could read John's mind. "Can you disable me before I rip his arm off? Can you catch him if I drop him?"

As if on cue, the machinery that Sinestro floated over whirred to life with a groaning, grinding noise. 

John hesitated.

"Your rings, now, before I drop him anyway."

The yellow light around Flash's body disappeared and he dropped, jerking to a halt to dangle from a single band of gold around his wrist.

"All right!" Stewart shouted. He took his ring off, tossed it to the ground a few feet in front of him.

Sinestro's eyes swept to John, and John did the same, a cold sinking feeling in his gut.

"An excellent decision," Sinestro said.

Pain flashed and sizzled over his skin, and everything went black. 

John woke up slowly, body cold and stiff, head throbbing, a burnt metallic taste filling his mouth. He was in some kind of cell, lying on the concrete floor. Stewart was there too, and on the other side of the bars, Flash--

John struggled up.

Flash was pinned to the floor by yellow light at his wrists and ankles. His eyes were huge and wide as Sinestro leaned over him, syringe in hand.

Sinestro gave Flash the injection, his hands delicate and quick.

John must have made some kind of noise, because Sinestro looked up at him.

He smiled. "Just a little truth serum," he said. "Entirely harmless, I assure you. I expect with his metabolism it will take effect very quickly."

Sinestro stood up and tugged Flash into a sitting position, pulled his mask off.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Flash's face twisted. "Flash," he said. "But sometimes people call me the Scarlet Speedster, or the Crimson Comet, or my personal favorite--"

"What's your _real_ name?" Sinestro asked.

"Wally West," he spat out.

"Good, that's very good," Sinestro said. "But what I really want to know are the codes to the Watchtower's defense system."

John's stomach rolled over.

Flash made a tiny, hurt noise in the back of his throat, but the words came out anyway. "Fibonacci, cadmium, atrial, Barbados."

They were yesterday's codes. John dropped his head into his hands to hide his face, afraid his relief would show. Such a fucking smartass, and God he loved him for it. 

"You're hiding something," Sinestro said.

John looked up. Flash shook his head, his eyes going desperately to John.

Sinestro grabbed Flash's hair, forced his head back. "Tell me what you're hiding."

"I want to watch the Lanterns make out," he blurted.

Sinestro blinked. "What?"

"Have you seen how hot they are? It's like the Doublemint Twins but more muscle-y." Flash went limp in Sinestro's grip and kept talking. "I want to watch them make out and then I want them to double-team me like a bad porno. And then cuddle, they seem like they'd be good cuddlers, right? Did you know Lantern was banging the alternate dimension version of me? Not GL, the other one. I can't stop thinking about that. It's super-unprofessional, and the fact that we're all wearing spandex all the time is not helping--"

Sinestro let go of Flash and stepped back. He gave him a look that was part distaste and part confusion, which was honestly a common reaction.

"I am genuinely sorry I asked," Sinestro said.

"Me, too," Flash said, heartfelt.

Sinestro shook his head. He flicked a hand at the cell, and the door slid open. He shoved Flash across the floor into the cell with a beam of light, and the door slammed shut.

Sinestro walked out, already giving orders for an attack.

John and Stewart rushed to Flash's side.

"Are you okay?" John asked.

"I don't know, my heart feels kind of funny, and I really do want to suck your dick, both your dicks, oooh, maybe at the same time? Oh, fuck, please make me stop talking--"

Stewart put one hand over Flash's mouth and one hand on the back of his head, gentle but firm, and Flash's eyes slid shut.

"Thought you'd never ask, kid," John said softly.

The corners of Flash's eyes crinkled up, like he was smiling behind Stewart's hand.

"Here, c'mon," Stewart said. He shifted around so he could sit with his back to the wall and pulled Flash with him, settling him with Flash's back to his chest, his head on Stewart's shoulder, Stewart's hand still over his mouth.

Flash slumped back against him, all of the tension seeping out of him. 

John turned away. His stomach felt weird and shaky, worried about Flash, worried about the rest of the team. He pushed all of that away, blocked out the memory of Flash's voice saying _I want to suck your dick_ , and concentrated on picking the lock.

*

In the end, he couldn't get the lock, but it didn't matter, because Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl came to the rescue. The Watchtower's defenses successfully turned back Sinestro's attack, and Superman was there to mop up the mess.

John's stomach was still tight and anxious when they went to see Flash in the infirmary.

Flash was joking with Hawkgirl when he and Stewart walked in. Flash's smile died and the room got awkward.

Hawkgirl gave them a narrow-eyed look. "Do you need a minute?" she asked Flash.

Flash took a deep breath. "Please."

"All right," she said. "But if you need anything--"

Flash nodded.

When she left, Flash gave them a weak smile. "So how about we pretend all that never happened? Or that it did happen, and um, I was lying the whole time? That's me, totally immune to truth serum--"

John leaned down and kissed him. 

Flash's mouth kept moving under his, like Flash was the one who was behind for a change. Then he stopped talking, and gasped into the kiss.

John lifted his head. 

Flash stared at him with huge eyes. "I, um, I, um. What?"

"We could also pretend that we got the truth serum, too," Stewart said. "I want to watch you two make out, too. Also, the dick sucking sounded really good."

Flash looked at Stewart, then back at John. John shrugged, and nodded. 

"No, _what?_ " Flash said.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," John said. "About us."

"Us--" Flash waved his hand between him and John "--or us?" He included Stewart in the hand-waving this time.

John looked over at him. Stewart looked back. His face was impassive, but John knew himself well enough to see the hope and uncertainty there.

John felt himself flush, but if they were being honest...."I'd give it a try," he said.

Stewart grinned and kissed him. He kissed confidently, like he knew exactly how good he was, but there was still something almost gentle about it, not pushy or aggressive.

John blinked and licked his lips when Stewart pulled back. "Okay, maybe more than a try," he said breathlessly.

"Holy shit," Flash said.

(Then he didn't say anything for a long time, which John didn't even know was possible.)

*

"There have been some positive developments, and some setbacks," Batman said.

Which was Bat-speak for "good news/bad news."

"I've been able to reopen the portal."

"That's -- positive, right?" Stewart said.

"Unfortunately, this was what's on the other side." Batman tapped a few keys, and a video appeared.

It was them, another version of them, anyway, fighting what looked like a giant robot snake. The costumes were a little different, but Wonder Woman's hair was short, and he didn't see the Flash --

The snake reared back and bent its head, its mouth opening to reveal huge fangs, and a beam of green light speared down through the base of its skull. The snake convulsed, and the camera panned up, zoomed in to show a Green Lantern hovering above it. It was John. He had a beard, and he looked leaner, more worn down than the reflection John was used to in the mirror, but it was still him. Some version of him.

"That's not my universe," Stewart said. 

"It appears not. I lost the connection to that universe after an hour," Batman said. "This is what's on the other side of the portal now."

The video changed, showing a ruined, abandoned city. The devastation was old. Grass and moss and even young trees had started to spring up in and around the shells of the destroyed buildings. The camera lingered on a huge, rusted, vine-covered sphere, and John realized with a start that it was the globe from the top of the _Daily Planet_ building. 

"That's not your universe, either, is it?" Batman asked.

Stewart shook his head slowly. "How many are there?"

"In theory, an infinite number. I can't seem to, to tune into a specific universe. It's not like changing the channel on the tv. The machine seems to connect to whichever one is closest or most in sync with our energy signal. I might be able to build a more sensitive receiver, but..."

"But there's still an infinite number of channels to flip through," Stewart said. 

"We can't leave the portal open and unattended," Wonder Woman said. "We don't know who or what is on the other side that might come through."

"Of course," Stewart said.

"You could monitor it, though. Perhaps, with some more tinkering--"

Stewart shook his head. "No, I -- no. You can shut it down. It's not worth the time or energy."

Wonder Woman exchanged a quick look with Batman. "If you're sure--"

Stewart caught John's eye. He started smiling, slow and luminous, and John's heart gave a warm flutter in his chest. "I'm sure. I'm home now."


End file.
